At The Time
by Simply Ravenclaw
Summary: People treat Lilah Cole differently after she was put under the Cruciatus Curse by a dark wizard and people like to keep their distance from her, because now Fenrir Greyback is after her. Except Fred Weasley. He is intrigued at first, and wary second. But soon enough, he sees her for the girl she was before Antonin Dolohov tortured her senseless.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

The Ministry of Magic really was an unbelievably huge place. It was all a little bit unnecessary actually, with fountains all over the place and weird magic ways to get to places. There were elevators and all, but no stairs. People got to places through toilets, up chimneys and there was always the distinct smell of floo powder around the place. There was always some weird way to do things. A part of me missed the muggle world I'd grown up in, but considering the reason that I was here I didn't ever want to go back. I was sitting in an office, in the Witness Protection office to be precise. They were going to put me somewhere, in a home somewhere secluded and far away with a wizard family. I observed the office. It was only bland, the walls were plain and white and there was only one painting where on the dandelions in the foreground swayed in the artificial wind. There were certificates hanging on the walls, the wax seals pale from being exposed to the strong artificial light. The door opened with a click and flung open a bit harshly.  
"Oops, oh, sorry!" the intern stumbled in, with her wand outstretched, "I'm still getting used to the charm." The door didn't have a handle, it was wand activated. Like I said, unnecessary although safe. She straightened out some papers on the desk and adjusted her skirt.  
"Are you okay? Can I get you anything?" she asked nervously. She studied me like people in the Ministry of Magic did now.  
"I'm fine," I replied. She nodded and shifted her weight onto her other leg, checking her watch.  
"He won't be long. As you can imagine, it's been a busy day," she laughed uncomfortably, but her eyes narrowed on me. I challenged her eye contact until she backed away. The corner of my mouth twitched upwards, but my half smile was abruptly interrupted by a short and stout man shuffling through the doorway. The intern made a fuss about his appearance, pulling the chair out and giving him his reading glasses. He propped them on his wide nose and peered down at the file she had handed him.  
"Hmph. Hm. Yes, okay," he put the yellow file down and entwined his fingers together on his round belly.  
"Name?" his voice was gruff as if he had smoked one too many pipes in his time. His grey hair was slicked to one side and he pushed it back as it fell over his eyes.  
"Lilah Cole."  
"Blood?"  
"Pure blood, muggle upbringing."  
"Age."  
"16."  
"Schooling?"  
"Going into my 6th year at Hogwarts," I thought about how long until I would be back there. I still hadn't decided whether I liked it yet.  
"Aha," he pondered. He pulled a quill out of the breast pocket of his robes, and held out a hand where the intern swiftly put a notepad. He flipped open the cover and jotted down a few things. He never moved his thick neck, but his eyes flicked up to me and then back down.  
"Don't you use those magic quills everyone else uses?" I wondered aloud. I had a habit of doing that, but really I wanted to fill the silence in the room.  
"Less accurate," he paused, and sat back in his chair. He observed me for a while and I sat on and let it happen. It was creepy. Finally he spoke, "do you want to talk about what happened."  
"What is there to say?" I picked my words carefully. I didn't want to reveal too much about my level of vulnerability.  
"We could start at the start. What happened," he looked sympathetic. I sighed and crossed my legs.  
"It's simple really," I shrugged.  
"Is it?" he said condescendingly.  
"Sure it is. I'm 15 and I was put under the Cruciatus curse and he sent the werewolf after me because I got away. Fenrir Greyback's after me and no one knows what to do about it."

Chapter 1

They treated me so delicately, like I was a jar they have used craft glue to put together. Of course, no one would even understand that in this world. They didn't use glue here. They used magic. A flick of the wand and the vase was flawless again. They walked me down the hall towards the fireplaces where I was supposed to be meeting the person whose home I would be going too. Arnold Wossle or something of the sort. The woman in front of me was the lady they had chosen to try and counsel me. I was so annoyingly unresponsive that even she had had enough of me. The Ministry was quiet at this time of night. Everyone had left an hour ago, at about 8. But there was still one person there and he was getting impatient. I could tell and I felt guilty for being the reason he was still around. The woman, her name was Lareena, had told me he had children and a wife and I felt terrible for keeping him away. I wondered if they would all be in bed. Apparently, he was unwilling at first to take me in, but he was the only person with a spare bed at the moment. He spotted us, probably because Lareena was monstrously tall and had wild blonde hair that sprayed in all directions. I could hear the sigh of relief.  
Finally, we were face to face. He wasn't a particularly tall man and his ginger hair was deflated on his head after being stuck under the hat that was now in his hand. Just as I noticed that, he put it back on and offered out his hand with a friendly smile.  
"You must be Lilah. I'm Arthur Weasley. It's a pleasure to finally meet you," he grinned, the bags under his eyes becoming more apparent. The poor man.  
"It's a pleasure now, but just wait until I eat everything in your cupboard," I wasn't sure if it was an appropriate joke. Lareena looked shocked, but Arthur laughed heartily.  
"Oh, you'll have to fight my sons for that!" he patted my hand and let it go and we headed towards the fire place. Ugh, sons. That meant more than one. Two? Three? I could imagine the little red headed beasts wreaking havoc and having to deal with it until they found a place for me.  
"Okay, Lilah, if you need anything you know where to write too. I will check on your progress everyday with Mr Weasley here. You're going to be okay," Lareena patted my shoulder. I craned my neck to look at her.  
I nodded and turned to Arthur, who handed me some floo powder.  
"It was a bit of a trouble getting the Ministry to keep the network open from here to The Burrow, but I managed it. We usually just Apparate," my eyes sagged in further guilt.  
"I'm so sorry for the trouble I've caused, Mr Weasley."  
"Oh not to worry! And please call me Arthur," he sounded chirpy despite he had been working all day, "Now, we're going to The Burrow. Remember to say it loud and clear!"  
I stepped into the fire and the smell was overwhelming, but I'd always been fond of the feeling of the fire on the exposed skin of my legs. I was still wearing my muggle clothes. I shouted 'The Burrow' and I was swiftly whipped off my feet and there were flashes of deep emerald. I tried to land graciously, but I tripped over my feet in effort and stumbled very awkwardly into a warm room. I went head first into a soft, incredibly cushioned couch, violently whacking my knee on a table. I groaned and pulled my head out from between two stuffed full cream pillows. I stood up and observed the room around me. It was cluttered, with flower pots and decorations lining every wall and couches shoved together. I'd once had a dream where I was drowning in cushions and the living room was much similar to it. I didn't feel the same amount of panic though. The warmth of the fire and the slight breeze coming in from a slightly ajar window had a wonderfully comfortable effect.  
"Um," someone said from my left. I turned my head and sitting on one of the couches was a boy with intensely red hair that was running a little bit wild. His face was confused beyond belief, as I would have expected. He had a notepad in his hand and his quill was resting beside him. I was kind of speechless, in a dumbstruck state of embarrassment. What do you say to a boy whose house you had just intruded? How do you explain that? Mr Weasley landed with a puff of smoke and I spun around, glad to have a way out of the uncomfortable silence between the red head and I.  
"Sorry I took a while, I've always had a bit of trouble with the fireplaces at the Ministry. Never seemed to light when I want them too. Oh! I see you've acquainted yourself with my youngest son, Ron. I opened my mouth, to explain that we hadn't actually really spoken, but before I could, a middle aged woman with a wooden spoon and an apron on came bustling in.  
"Arthur! Why did you come through the fireplace? Whatever took you so long, your supper has gone-" she froze when she saw me. I guess no one knew I would be coming.  
"Molly, before you say anything, I think we should have a chat," Arthur said calmly. They left the room and I could hear the muffled voice of outrage from Molly and the smooth, low tone of Arthur who was trying to explain my situation. I was stuck in the room with Ron, who was still staring at me with his mouth gaping open. I shuffled my feet on the brown carpet and took a tentative seat on the arm of a chair, kind of hovering before actually touching down. Ron continued to stare and I got a little bit impatient with him. It was late and I'd had a long day. Hell, I'd been under the Cruciatus Curse like 7 hours before.  
"Didn't you parents ever teach you not to stare," I growled. He closed his mouth and frowned. I zeroed in on his blue eyes and noticed how his silvery eye lashes brushing the top eyelid. They were long and luscious, something I appreciated.  
"Didn't you parents ever teach you not to fall out of peoples fireplaces?" he scowled back at me.  
"My parents are muggles. I think that answers that," I snorted and looked away, into the fire that glowed brightly in the room.  
"What's your name," he asked after a while. I'd lost myself in the beauty of the flames as they licked their surroundings.  
"Lilah," I replied simply, not needing to ask the same of him.  
"Last name?" a part of me was prepared to just tell him, but a part of me wanted a bit of mystery.  
"Nope," was all I said.  
"You've gotta have a last name," he probed. I didn't have to reply, however, because Arthur came back into the room and beckoned me to follow him into the kitchen.  
The little kitchen was as cluttered as the lounge room. It was cosy though, with teapots hanging everywhere, a dish brush was scrubbing at pans in the sink and Molly was sitting in a chair, looking friendlier than when I had first seen her.  
"Lilah, is it? Oh you're a very pretty girl. Simply beautiful hair," I swept my chocolate brown hair to the side and blushed furiously. She stood up and started making a fuss over me, straightening out my clothes. She raised an eyebrow at what I was wearing.  
"Muggle clothing,"  
"I see. Well, Ginny will have some spare clothes somewhere, until… well until you get some new ones," she smiled sympathetically. I guessed she knew something about my future that I didn't. Everyone seemed too. I'd just like a little information.  
"Should we call everyone downstairs?" Arthur suggested. Molly nodded, reaching behind her back and untying her apron, hanging it delicately over a chair. A dish clattered as it collided with something in the dish tray and Molly cursed under her breath, rolling her eyes.  
"Hopeless things," she muttered. She corrected the mistake and the brush continued scrubbing. Arthur disappeared and I could hear him calling out a bunch of names.  
"Percy! Don't you ignore me! I'm calling a Weasley family meeting," Weasley, that was it. The name kept slipping my mind and I felt terrible since this kind family was taking me in. There were grunts and stomps as people forwarded down the stairs. Molly gestured that I move out of the room.  
"I'll call you in momentarily dear," she smiled and I nodded. I was standing in a doorway and I could see the shadows of people moving into the room. A few minutes later, everyone was in apparently and Arthur began to explain the situation.  
"There's been a bit of an… incident today and this has resulted in someone having to have a place to hide. And that place, it seems, is here. She'll only be staying for a few weeks, but I trust you will all make her feel welcome," he finished. There were noises of interest and whispering.  
"And no silly jokes, boys," Molly said in a stern, motherly tone. There was a sigh that reverberated around the room, "Come in, dear," Molly said. Oh, she meant me. I hesitated, choosing my plan of action. Do I jump in dramatically? Do I waltz in like I don't have a care in the world? Do I look like the victim of the Cruciatus Curse?  
I just kind of half walked half awkwardly shuffled around the corner and into the immediate limelight. There were 5 new people in the kitchen, all with solid red hair. There were so many gingers. So many. I was drowning in a sea of red hair, but I tried not to notice. I observed all of them as they observed me. Ron looked smug and less dumbstruck as the rest of them. He scoffed at how shocked they looked and I wanted to scoff at his pride. There was only one girl and she looked a few years younger than me, at least. There was a lanky boy who looked down his slender nose at me, like he was so superior to me. There were two identical boys who were sitting in an almost symmetrical way at the far side of the table.  
"Go ahead, deary. Introduce yourself," Molly gestured from her chair.  
"Oh yes, please introduce yourself," one of the twins grinned hungrily. I tried not to widen my eyes in surprise by his tone.  
"Oh, okay. I'm, uh, Lilah," I said simply. There was an awkward silence as they waited for me to say more. When nobody did, the other twin spoke up.  
"Oh I know you! You're in my Transfiguration class and you were the one who turned your model aeroplane into two frogs and Professor McGonagall couldn't work out how you did it," I laughed at the memory. I did remember the two of them being in my class. Once they'd sent a mice flying into my hair and I'd never really forgiven them.  
"That was me," I avoided eye contact with everyone.  
"I'm Fred," the second twin said.  
"I'm George," the first said.  
"I'm Ginny," the girl said.  
"I'm Percy, and I'd like to return to my important report. You should understand, father," he pushed his chair out and waited to be dismissed. He seemed disgruntled by my presence.  
"Oh off you go," Molly waved him away.  
"Ron, care to introduce yourself?" Arthur said.  
"I already did, when she burst through the fire place and went head first into the sofa," he laughed. I blushed and looked down at my feet.  
"Ron! Don't be rude!" Molly roused.  
"Sorry. I'm Ron," he sulked.  
"Um, it's a pleasure to meet you all," I said, trying to sound confident. Arthur looked at me reassuringly and Molly smiled with a nod of the head. I wasn't sure what they wanted me to say. There was a long silence that probably only last a few seconds but felt like a few hours while every member of the family, excluding Percy who had gone upstairs, inspected me.  
"Well! I think it's time you all got to bed. Lilah, you'll be in Ginny's room so Ginny, if you could take her up there. Um, Lilah, your trunk will get here tomorrow morning. They're just doing routine checks to make sure there's nothing that Fenr.." he faded out, looking over at his children who were, despite being told to go to bed, were still sitting there tentatively looking at her, "Well that could compromise your position."  
"You must be so exhausted, Lilah. Alright everyone, off to bed!"  
"But we want to talk to her," the twins said in unison. It was weird how in sync they were.  
"You can talk to her in the morning. She's had a big day," Molly's eyes were apologetic, but she turned them stern so that she could usher everyone upstairs. Ginny leapt to her feet and waltzed towards me.  
"Come on then," she said sweetly, grabbing my limp hand down by my side and dragging me out of the room. We swung out of the room and I bumped into one of the twins. I had no idea which one, but his brown eyes were plagued with interest and a curiosity that matched one of a toddler who was just seeing the world. His long red hair flicked at the ends and the sly smile on his lips was confusing, but intriguing. I bit my lip and followed Ginny up the stairs. And that was the first time I ever wanted to kiss Fred Weasley.


	2. Chapter 2

There was already a make shift bed in place, and Ginny said it was in preparation for the arrival of Ron's friend, Hermione Granger. I'd seen her bushy hair flitting around school, and when I'd heard her speak I'd often wondered why she wasn't placed in Ravenclaw. She was incredibly intelligent. I pretty much shoved my face into the pillow. It had been shoved at the back of a cupboard, by the smell of it.  
"I'm just going to the bathroom, I'll be back soon," she grinned at me and I think she wanted to talk when she got back. But I couldn't keep my eyes open. I was out in a few minutes.

When I woke up, I didn't remember where I was. I was seriously confused and a little bit frightened of the Quidditch posters and the smiling faces of The Wicked Sisters. They all swayed in their rectangular cages, and blinked steadily. I'd never understood how someone could sleep with people moving everywhere. Even the portrait in the Ravenclaw dorm was terrifying. I propped myself up on my elbows and yawned, stretching my neck and trying to clear my thoughts. Yesterday was a blur, but there was still the clear memory of the curse. The twitching, the shaking. It was all still there. But I was at the Weasley's. There was light streaming into the room, landing in puddles everywhere. The rickety curtains were torn in the middle and held out hardly any light at all, but the sun shimmering through the maroon was a rather pretty sight from where I was on the ground. I was still wearing my clothes and I wished I could snuggle into my pajamas that I hoped still smelt strongly of home.

Ginny's bed was empty. I hurried out of the bed and quickly readjusted myself. I looked in the mirror that was set on Ginny's wall. I expected it to do something magical, but it was a plain mirror. I looked pale and the dark circles under my eyes were so visible, I wished I had just a bit of make up to conceal it with. But my trunk was downstairs and I couldn't avoid seeing someone in a house this small.

"You're a sleeper, that's for sure," a voice by the door said. I spun around and went to reach for my wand, still on edge after the attack. My wand wasn't there, of course. It was in my trunk, where they'd forced me to put it. But it was only George. Or Fred. I couldn't tell.  
"You frightened me," I sighed, pretending to just have been adjusting my shirt, instead of grabbing my wand.  
"Are you looking for this?" the twin pulled a wand out from behind his back and twiddled it in his fingers. I raised an eyebrow.  
"Did you go through my trunk to get that?" I said, taking two long strides in order to snatch it off him. He flicked it back, yellow sparks flying out of the tip.  
"I might have," he grinned. I sighed and gave up on trying to get it from him. He was a good head taller than I was and I was never one to play those games. It was too psychologically tiring, and it's just what they want. Boys were simple beings. Striving off attention.  
"What time is it?" I asked impatiently.  
"Lunchtime. I was coming up to get you, Mum was getting worried you'd died or something," I muttered a curse word under my breath, feeling terrible for being the last one up. "Listen, I'll make you a deal. If you can guess which twin I am, I'll give you your wand back."  
I was stumped. They were identical. Truly, down to the last chin hair, identical. Well, maybe not to that extent. Maybe that was the thing. I tried to think back to my close look at Fred the night before, but I could hardly remember. All I could remember was the strange attraction. It seemed silly. I decided, after inspecting the twin after a while, to take a wild guess.  
"Fred," I said. He looked defeated. He held out his hand and I took the wand from it. It was 10 ¾ inches, rather hard, unicorn tail hair and fir wood. I loved it, ever since my visit to Ollivanders with my aunt, I had loved it. It had, in fact, been the first wand he'd given to me. I wished I could have used a bit of magic. Just a little bit, but they'd already been cranky with me after I'd used my wand to ward off Antonin Dolohov when he got distracted while cursing me. That's how I got away. I was so enraged that they had the guts to be mad at me after what I'd been through. Fred moved out of my way so I could finally leave the room.  
"How did you know?" he asked as I trotted past him and onto the stairs.  
"Lucky guess," I smiled back up at him. He narrowed his eyes and the corner of his lip lifted. He followed me down the stairs and into the kitchen where I immediately started apologising for my lack of punctuality but Molly waved her hand.  
"Not to worry, dear! You had a big, big day. An unbelievable day in fact. Just sit down and have some pudding," she scooped a blog out of the bowl and dumped it onto a plate in front of me.  
"Mrs Weasley, you really didn't have to make me lunch. I don't want to cause you any trouble," I said, ignoring the fork she had slotted next to my plate.  
"Don't be silly. Just because you don't usually live here doesn't mean I'm going to treat you differently," there was a little bit of a double meaning behind her words that was portrayed by her eyes as she doled out some pudding for Fred who had pulled up a chair directly next to me. All day and night the previous day, people had been looking at me like I was something Hagrid showed us in Care of Magical Creatures. They treated me like a leper, something foreign and delicate. She was trying to treat me like anyone else. I appreciated the effort, at least.

"It's very much appreciated, Mrs Weasley," I said politely. George scoffed from the across the table and I shot him a look that I probably shouldn't have. He didn't notice though. He was having a weird conversation with his eyes with Fred who was sitting a little close for comfort next to me. I gobbled down the food, realising my intense hunger. I picked up my plate and carried it over to the sink, placing it delicately. I didn't really know what to do after that. I kind of hovered here and there for a few minutes, looking around at things. Fred and George were watching and sniggering. Finally I'd had enough of their silent taunts and I went into the lounge room. My trunk was sitting on the table, sealed and beckoning to me. I wanted to bury myself in my belongings. I was homesick already, missing the two story cabin like structure that my muggle family had called home. I missed my adoptive mother franticly cleaning the house, picking up the dirty socks my father had left lying around. I was an only child since my adoptive mother could not bear children. That's why she loved me so dearly. I had a weird family history, something no one would really understand unless they had lived it.

"Do you need a hand taking it up to our room?" Ginny asked me from her seat, where she was reading a girly magazine.  
"If it's no trouble," I said awkwardly. She smiled and stood up, taking the handle of a smaller bag on the floor that probably had my toiletries and underwear in it. I thanked her and we swiftly headed upstairs with my things. I opened my trunk, the back clunking on the wooden post of the bed and I dug around for some new clothes. I hadn't changed since I'd been lying in the middle of a gymnasium, corned by a dark wizard.  
"Thanks again Ginny," I said, making sure she knew that I knew her name. Her eyes seemed to lighten up slightly and I knew I'd done the right thing.  
"You fell asleep really fast last night," she laughed. I giggled with her.  
"I know, sorry. Big day," she sat down on her bed, watching me unfolding and refolding my clothes.  
"Yeah…" she said, "about that. What happened?" I wasn't feeling particularly like reliving the memory just yet so I just shook my head slightly.  
"I'd rather not…" I said and she must have heard the pain in my voice, because she swiftly apologised and left me to my business. I figured they'd all be interested and they would all ask at some stage. I didn't want to explain my story more than once so I decided on doing it that night. Until then, I'd have to be as polite as I possibly could.

Ginny popped her head in the door again.  
"Do you want a shower?" my eyes lit up.  
"That would be nice," I grinned. She beckoned me to follow her and I gathered the clothes I'd chosen. They were just a pair of jeans, a tank top and a sweater. The least muggle thing I could find. The sweater smelt like home and I wondered how Dad was. Whether he knew where I was, or whether they'd withheld the information in case Greyback or Dolohov came for him. The thought immediately made me want to run to the door and go back and protect him, but there was nothing I could do. I wondered if he was grieving.

Ginny told me how to operate the shower. It was like a muggle shower, but it smelt nicer and it adjusted to your body temperature and your emotions. I thanked Ginny and she hastily fled, seemingly scared I would just de-robe myself in front of her. I was crazy, but I wasn't that crazy. I closed the door and locked it, jumping immediately into the shower and went back to my thoughts of my Dad.

I must have gotten my brown hair from my biological mother, because his hair was as blonde as Barbie's. I'd often make jokes about it, about how unnatural it looked, but he would just ruffle mine and laugh with me. He would sit in his study and poor over his research about magical creatures and their medicinal uses. And when I got lonely, I would sit with him and I would organise the books on the shelf into alphabetical order by name, by author's first name or last name, by colour. I would clean the windows, I would rearrange the flowers. I would get ahead with my studies and I'd learn more and more about transfiguration that was, despite my constant failure, my favourite subject. We wouldn't talk. He needed to focus and I understood that. I just wanted to be there with him. And when he would need a break he would pull out his wand and tell me stories about his days at Hogwarts, about my real mother and he would levitate things, transfigure things, and shatter things. He'd put on a show for half an hour while I sat there laughing.

That was how I spent my holidays.  
And now I couldn't. I wasn't really sure what to do with myself. I used to have a safe haven, but with two dark wizards after me there was no safe place. They had put up barriers and precautions and they'd made sure they would protect me here, but I knew I had to leave as soon as possible. If something happened to the lovely family that had so graciously taken me in, I would sooner become a death eater than forgive myself. I needed to leave before I made any attachments. I felt nothing but grateful towards the Weasley's and that is how it had to stay. I couldn't love Molly like a mother, Ron like a brother. I couldn't become Ginny's best friend. I had to be singular. Because I was like a black hole. I sucked things into my life where they couldn't get out. Doomed for all eternity to carry the burden that was me.

I couldn't never let that happen to the Weasley's.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I'd spent most of the day up in Ginny's room, not wanting to disturb the peace of the Weasley household. Well, I wouldn't exactly call it peace. At least once every hour there was a loud bang from the Twin's room and Percy groaning and yelling at the two of them. But there was routine, sanity in the form of organised insanity. I read through my Transfiguration text book, brushing up a little. I swore that I would nail it this year.

Later that night, I wandered down to the kitchen after smelling something incredibly appealing.  
"Hungry, love?" Mrs Weasley asked me when I came in. I felt rude and awkward.  
"Oh, just a little. Smells delicious," I replied, a sweetness clearly evident in my voice.  
"How are you feeling?" she smiled over her shoulder at me while waving her wand at a pot.  
I hadn't really paid any attention to my feelings at all. I'd only thought about my dad.  
"I've been better, but I'm getting there. About that though, I figured everyone was wondering about what happened and I was wondering if you thought it would be a good idea to let everyone know over supper tonight," she turned around slowly, deep in thought.  
"Are you sure you want to do that?"  
"I do, I think they have a right to know. You've all taken me in so graciously and they've made me feel welcome. They deserve to know why I have to disrupt their daily lives," she scoffed.  
"You aren't disrupting anything dear!" she sounded so motherly.  
"Never the less," I replied. She nodded.  
"If that's what you want to do," she said, scooping out a large assortment of pasta. I smiled apologetically. I knew she didn't really want to know the full story, especially not from my point of view. I had two choices. I could go into horrific detail, using the vocabulary I had gathered from the thousands of books I had read to give everyone imagery they would prefer never to have seen. Or I could outline it briefly and act like it wasn't a big deal. That the memory wasn't sitting at the back of my mind, plaguing my thoughts and reminding me of the pain I had suffered. Since they only really needed to know what happened, I opted for the second option and went out into the lounge room, my book in my hand. I had been reading 'The Hobbit', a book I'd swiftly taken from my dad's library before the whole fiasco.

I sat down in a free arm chair and felt it contorting to my shape. Only Ron was in the room, in the same place he had been when I'd come crashing through the fire place. He had a quill in his hand and he was eagerly scratching away at parchment. I looked over his shoulder and saw a little owl squeaking around in a cage. I'd always been fascinated by owls. Ron looked up and then in the direction I was looking in.  
"Oh, that's Pigwidgeon," he said, going back to his writing.  
"Who are you writing too?" I asked politely.  
"Friends," he sighed, shaking his hand down and putting his quill on his lap. He looked into the fire, deep in thought. I decided to leave him too it. He obviously missed them very much. I sat back and tried to concentrate on the words, but no matter how much I read a page, nothing was transmitting. I was trying to formulate a plan, how I could approach the situation. Humour? Melancholy? Regret? I finally shut the book with an impatient sigh and put my head in my hands and started to write a speech in my mind.

It seemed like only minutes after that Mrs Weasley came into the room with and told us food was served. She gave me a reassuring smile and I nodded in return, taking the spare seat at the table. There were already plates there with food on them, but a steaming pot of pasta sat temptingly in the middle, just asking for everyone to want seconds before finishing their firsts. Everyone made their way down into the kitchen and after about five minutes, George was squished up against me, antagonising me again and Mr Weasley had finally arrived home. I looked at Mrs Weasley for permission to speak out and she nodded.  
"Um, excuse me, everyone," I shouted over the hum of chat. Everyone quieted down except Fred and George, who it seemed never had a quiet moment.  
"Oh, you aren't going to make us pray are you?" Fred sighed.  
"We aren't going to accept that Jesus mumbo jumbo in this household," George continued.  
"We will not say grace!" they said together.  
"Boys, be quiet," Mrs Weasley growled, "go on, dear."  
"I suppose you're all wondering what happened to me yesterday that caused me to need to hide here and I've decided that you all have a right to know," I choked out, bubbles rising rapidly in my throat as they often did when I was nervous. This quieted the twins, and they both eagerly leaned over the table to get a good look at me. I hesitated, feeling the countless pairs of eyes glaring at me. Except Percy, who had obviously heard the story at the Ministry, where he had been all day. He sat back, smug, and glared hungrily at his dinner, obviously irritated that I was holding up his stuffing of his face.  
"Well bloody go on, don't keep us waiting," Ron protested from the other end of the table. I swallowed my fear.  
"Okay, sorry. So, um, I was raised by my step mother and my father. My real mother died while giving birth to me. My father is a wizard, my mother is a muggle, and they raised me to think I was a muggle until I came of age to go to Hogwarts. Um, last year while I was away, my father did something to piss off a dark wizard. Not sure if you've heard of him but his name is Antonin Dolohov," Ginny gasped and Ron's eyes widened, while the twins shared a look, "And so yesterday he came after me and my mother while we were out. He cornered us and put me under the Cruciatus Curse. My mum protested and attacked him, so he killed her and I used the time to get out. I don't really know how I got away. I climbed a tree, I think I remember, and… I don't really know what happened after that. Someone, a wizard friend of my Dads came and he took me to his house and that's when I first spotted Fenrir Greyback," another gasp reverberated around the table.  
"Holy shit," one of the twins muttered on their breath.  
"Fred! George!" Mrs Weasley growled at them again.  
"He'd been tracking me and I got away, so he followed me. And that's when this wizard guy, I don't know his name, whisked me off the Ministry and that's how I got here. Because Fenrir Greyback is after me," I finished with a sigh. It felt good to have it all off my chest, but now I knew they would all treat me differently. It didn't matter though. I'd just hide in Ginny's room all day, or outside under the overcast sky with a book.  
"You've got to be kidding me!" Ron's jaw dropped, "You're saying that Greyback, the crazed, blood thirsty werewolf is after you and you're going to lead him here?"  
"Ron Weasley!" Mr Weasley shouted but I sat back, shocked at what he'd said. I had nothing to say to that. It was true. I was putting this whole family in danger for my own selfish needs.  
"It's true, isn't it?" he shouted.  
"She is here because we are easily concealable. There are hundreds of protection charms around the border of the Burrow and she is not putting us in danger. You go straight up to your room for talking to our guest like that," Mr Weasley got up out of his chair and pointed violently towards the door. Ron shoved out from the table and huffed. His eyes shot daggers at me before he marched up the stairs and slammed his door.  
"I'm, um, sorry," was all I managed to stammer.  
"It's fine, don't listen to him," Mrs Weasley patted my hand. I should have reacted, but I couldn't. I was frozen in the moment when Ron had told us all what I was really doing. He'd said what everyone else was too scared too.  
"I should apologise," I was starting to get out of my seat before I really knew it, but Mr Weasley grabbed my arm.  
"No, you don't need too. He needs too. Just give him a little while," he sat me back down and I nodded, staring blankly into my food.  
"Okay, you can all eat now," Mrs Weasley said and Percy was the first person to eat. Everyone else kind of seemed a bit shocked. Slowly, they all picked up their forks and dug in. I kind of picked at my pasta and tried to choke as much as possible down, not wanting to seem rude.

"You don't have to eat it all if you can't, dear," Mrs Weasley said sympathetically, after I had my fifth forkful of pasta. I nodded and placed my hands on the table, pushing out and standing up. I slotted my wooden chair back into place.  
"Thank you for the lovely supper. I'm sorry for causing such a ruckus," I apologised gruffly before scurrying out of the room in embarrassment. I ran up the stairs, almost tripping and falling onto my face. I made it up to Ginny's room in one piece and flung myself onto my mattress on the ground.

I didn't know how long I was lying there, on my side, thinking. I lay there like a fallen tree trunk that people just stepped over instead of lifting up. Ginny came in and out a few times, but I didn't see anyone else. Not until about 8:30, when there was a soft knock on the door. I lifted my head, craning it and feeling my bones working for the first time in hours. It was Fred, his overgrown hair tickling the top of his eyes. I dropped my head down and said nothing. He was only here to patronise me, or he probably had something that belonged to me.  
"You left your book downstairs," he said softly.  
"What do I have to do to get it back?" I grumbled. I was in no mood for his games.  
I heard footsteps and I saw him come and stand next to me. He sat down on Ginny's bed.  
"Nothing," he put the book down next to my hands which were tucked between my thighs. I sighed, feeling bad for my sudden snap.  
"Sorry," I said.  
"It's fine, you've had a rough week," the sweetness in his voice aggravated me.  
"I don't need your sympathy," I growled, the guilt I'd felt moments before dissolving into the acidic anger in the pit of my stomach.  
"Then I won't give it to you," he replied sharply, standing up and starting to leave. The guilt returned. I groaned.  
"I'm sorry, Fred," he stopped at the doorway and turned around.  
"How did you know it was me?" he asked. I didn't really have an answer for me. The twins were identical to the very last hair, but I'd know somehow. But how, was what he'd asked. The fact that I didn't know scared me. The unknown terrified me, and attachments to people I hardly knew was something I didn't like at all. But I felt an attachment to Fred after 24 hours and I'd hardly spoken more than a few words to him. Maybe I was just curious. I'd been thinking about it too long and my silence had stopped seeming to be one of confusion and more something suspicious, so I spoke, my voice crackling.  
"I… I don't really know."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

A week and a half passed before I was really settling into the flow of things. Every morning at 9, I would be woken up by a twin, sometimes George, usually Fred, and I would go downstairs in a dressing gown and nibble on whatever food was available. Then, I'd spend the day over a Transfiguration textbook, a novel or I'd do something with one of the Weasley's. So far, Ginny had shown me all over the property, Ron had told me all about his friends and George told me about his secret plans for some joke shop the twins had been planning. I'd even sat in Percy's room for a little while. He only wanted to get in my good books so I would give him a recommendation to the Ministry.

I didn't really spend any time with Fred though, even though I wanted too. He seemed scared, wary and almost suspicious. I didn't really know what I did wrong. It could have been that I knew it was him and not George; it could have been that he thought I was faking being cursed. It would have been incredibly insensitive if he had thought so, but insensitivity was one of the world's personality faults and it plagued daily life, enough so that I was used to it. I'd grown a hide, a super tough skin and the relentless stabbing of insensitivity had only left marks, never wounds. So I brushed it off and ignored the tugging feeling at my navel that was pulling me up to the second floor, where the twins room was.

After a little while, I saw that George was in the lounge room. I knew if Fred wasn't with George, then he would be up in his room. They were always together, which was desperately annoying. I finally gave into the pull I felt. I just wanted to know why he was avoiding me like the plague. I guess if I was in his position, I would too.

I stopped at his door and gazed upon the worn back wood and peeling red paint. It had 'Fred and George' messily painted on there, with an assortment of different pictures, one of which was incredibly vulgar and looked recent. I giggled, before manning up and rapping on the door with a closed fist and waiting.  
"Come in," an unenthusiastic voice called. The door handle came off in my hand and I pushed the door, gently pushing it back into place. The room looked significantly different to all the others. It had holes in the wall's, the posters were of women Quidditch players in what could hardly be called a robe and burn marks on the curtains. There was a distinct smell of gunpowder and smoke in the room and there were boxes piled up to the roof, one was stamped with the word 'WHEEZES', but the others were just plain.  
"Oh, hi," Fred looked at me approaching him, but made no move to invite me to sit down.  
"Sorry, I think I broke the door handle," I apologised.  
"Nah, that was from a little while ago. Experiment done wrong. Or right. Depends on what you wanted to happen," he shrugged. His feet were hanging off the end of the bed, highlighting his immense lankiness.  
"What did you want to happen?" I asked.  
"We just wanted something to happen," he smiled at the memory, but the mist over his eyes disappeared abruptly, "Did you need something?"  
"No, I just wanted to talk," I wanted to slap myself. It sounded so cheesy. _I just wanted to talk. _Shiver.  
"Okay, I'll talk to you if you can guess which one of us I am," he grinned. I tucked my foot behind my ankle and slouched into my hip, trying to make standing seem uncomfortable so he would invite me to sit down. He didn't.  
"I don't know why you ask me this," I said, sitting down on George's bed instead. It rattled, the supports had probably taken one to many a beating by the various experiments.  
"It's just a precaution," he said, swinging his long legs over the edge of the bed. I teetered awkwardly, trying not to touch too much.  
"Well if George is downstairs, then it can only be Fred," I said simply.  
He feigned shock, "I could be Ron, just under the effects of the Polyjuice Potion!"  
"Ron isn't smart enough to make Polyjuice Potion."  
"Touche. Well Ginny could have gone through a particularly rough and quick puberty and now this is what she looks like. How dare you say I look like Fred!" he pretending to sob into his hands and I laughed at the scenarios he managed to think up.  
Finally, he stopped and looked up at me, "What did you want to talk about?" He leaned on the wall behind him, the poster of a woman named 'Lyndette' with her robes open, crinkling.  
"You've been avoiding me. It's almost always George who wakes me up in the morning. You sit as far as you can away from me and so far, you're the only one who hasn't interrogated me about what happened. I want to know what I've done," I demanded, my voice sounding a lot softer than I would have liked. I wanted some force behind my words, but my fatigue wouldn't allow it.

He looked at me, shocked at my sudden outburst. The little anger I had in my voice was obviously enough to stun him into silence. It only lasted a few seconds though, before he sighed and frowned.  
"That's simple. I thought that was what you wanted," I raised an eyebrow.  
"Why would you think I didn't want to speak with you?" I asked in outrage.  
"You've been through a bloody hell of a lot, Lilah. So I put myself in that situation and if it was me, I wouldn't want to be interrogated and annoyed. So I waited until you decided you wanted to talk. And that is now," he went silent for a moment, seemingly tossing up whether to say more or not. Deciding to, he opened his mouth again, "And bloody hell, I'm glad you did because I don't think I could have waited any longer."

I was honestly shocked. It was such a thoughtful kind of thing. Something I didn't think was possible from the constantly sniggering, pranking and idiotic twin. I had no words for it. He knew. He empathised and then he just knew. He'd been acting wary because he had put himself in my shoes. Empathy was often a trait lost in the contemporary world, but somehow he'd dug deep and found it, and he'd kept his distance. Fred Weasley hadn't sympathised, he hadn't pitied me. He had empathised and I couldn't put words in my mouth to thank him enough. I was… I didn't really know how I felt at that moment. All I knew was that that was the second time I'd ever wanted to kiss Fred Weasley.  
And then I said the stupidest thing I've ever said, to this day, "I love you."  
My eyes widened and I bit my lip. I hadn't meant it like that. It was something I often said to my friends when they did things for me. Like when I would ask Rory to grab my book for me, or when someone would go to the kitchen and get some midnight snacks for us, I would say 'Aw, I love you.' But I didn't mean to say it to Fred. I was terrified as too how he would react. The five seconds that we both stayed silent felt like light years.

And then he burst out laughing.  
And so did I.  
And it was this perfect harmony of laughter and red cheeks and lip bites and slight brushes of skin after I somehow found myself on his bed.  
When we got our shit together and breathed a bit more regularly, we were both lying on our backs, our shoulders pressing together on his bed.  
"I don't even know what that was," I sighed in shame.  
"Obviously, your heart couldn't hold it in any longer," he said cockily. I snorted.  
"Yeah, that was it," I replied sarcastically. We just lay there for a little while, the clock that hung on the wall ticking a lullaby. I could see the flicks of his flaming red hair out of the corner of my eye and admired how it wasn't just red on the outer layers, but it was red all the way through. Pure, in the loveliest way.

Fred turned his head to me, the movement of his body causing more of our skin to touch.  
"So, are you ready to talk now?" he asked.  
"Depends what the topic of conversation is," the truth was, I wasn't ready to talk. I didn't want to talk about Antonin, or my mother. Or the curse, or how I felt.  
"Whatever you want," he was treading carefully, easing me into it.  
"I don't know," I put on my flirtiest voice and turned onto my side, so that my legs were pressed against him but there was space between our chests.  
"How about school?" he suggested.  
"Okay…" I thought for a second, "Favourite subject?"  
"I'd say Transfiguration," he said, "I like to mess with McGonagall."  
"Me too!" I cried in a little bit too much excitement, "But I've always loved Charms."  
He smiled at me, and I returned it. His smile, although closed mouth, was beaming and the perfect half-moon of his mouth seemed unnaturally shapely. There was a certain softness to the way he was looking at me. The only word I could use to describe it was appreciative. Like he appreciated my existence, my being there, and instead of just looking at me like the girl who'd been under an Unforgivable Curse, he looked at me like I was Lilah.  
And that was the third time I wanted to kiss Fred Weasley.  
But it was the first time I acted on it.

It seemed he had the same idea. I moved to press my lips to his, and so did he, and it was violent. There was a knock of foreheads and my eye sight went blurry for a second, he pulled away, rubbing his nose that had gone into my eye.  
"Oh shit," he said.  
"Sorry," I said at the same time. We kind of froze, my nurse my eye and him his nose. There was silence. It wasn't awkward, it was just kind of like 'we just tried to kiss and failed, so what now?' We didn't really know how to react. I'd never been in that situation before. I hadn't kissed many guys, but the ones I had, it hadn't been a spur of the moment impulse that had resulted with a nose in the eye. So I kind of just lay there, confused, in a state of befuddlement. But he fixed it all.  
"So… try again?" he asked. I chortled and nodded.  
So we tried again, slower this time, making sure to move with each other. The impulse was gone, but the passion was still there, as was the emotion. When our lips finally touched, sparks flew and the world lit up in shades of bold and brilliant blue. And it kind of just happened for a few seconds. There was no complication in the world at all in that moment. If someone had screamed Antonin Dolohov in my ear, I wouldn't have known who they meant. All I knew was Fred and lips and his hand on my hip and our faces pressed together like two pieces of a puzzle.

It was over as quickly as it had begun. There was silence and I stared into his brown eyes that had acquired a depth I hadn't seen before. And then I just got up walked to the door and turned around.  
"We should do this again sometime," I said quickly, a flirty smile teetering on my lips.  
"I agree wholeheartedly," he beamed back.  
"Okay, well I'm going to… yeah I'm going to go. But I'll see you around," I could feel my eyes sparkling. I flung the door open, the door handle falling off. I bent over to get it but a bigger hand was already there.  
"I'll grab it," George said, slotting it back.  
"Thanks George," I grinned and he forwarded into the room, closing the door behind him. I stayed there and leant on the door, catching my breath. I could hear them conversing inside.  
"How does she always know it's me?" George said.  
"She's got something about her, that one. Something great. I like her," he said unashamedly.  
There was a pause as I tried to stifle giggles.  
Then George replied, "You're a bloody weird one, you are."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The colour that emanated from the stone encased fireplace at the edge of the room had given everyone in the room a certain glow, but none were glowing more than Fred who was sitting in the corner, pretending to be writing something but looking up and meeting my eyes, smirking, then looking down again. The warmth the fire emitted had put everyone in a particularly good mood as we were all rugged up and chatting wholeheartedly. Everyone's spirits were lifted and there was a glittering quality about the room as most of the Weasley's nestled in. They were all rearing to go to the Quidditch World Cup.  
"We are really sorry, Lilah. If we're known you were coming we would have booked an extra ticket," Mr Weasley apologised again. I shook him off.  
"It's fine really, I've never been that into Quidditch to be honest," gasps reverberated around the room. Fred looked the most appauled by the news.  
"You're kidding!" the twins exclaimed.  
"I was never very good at it and I couldn't ride a broom to save my life," I sighed, rolling my eyes at their expressions.  
"Something is going to have to be done about that," Fred said. All eyes were drawn on me, so he winked. I looked down at my hands and tried not to blush.  
"Fine," I agreed reluctantly. Well, it wasn't really reluctant. I'd do anything to see Fred mount a broom and using his spectacular arms to steer it…

I looked up and laughed as Ron tried to catch an extremely excitable Pigwidgeon.  
"Come 'ere, Pig," he grunted, looking embarrassed by his incompetence and inability to reclaim the owl from the air, "Bloody thing." Ron had finally started warming up to me after his outburst. We had spent a little time together, but he just told me about his friends and seemed to highlight that he wished they were there instead of me. But now, he'd apologised and we'd become semi-friends.  
"Let me give you a hand, my Dad had an owl just like this one," I just, heaving up the blankets that were wrapped around my torso. Ron huffed. I hadn't expected him to accept my help, but he looked exhausted from chasing the thing around.  
"Okay, everyone, just take some deep breaths in and out and make no sudden movements," they did as I instructed, although Fred and George tried to take the piss out of it. Pig seemed confused by the lack of excitement. He whizzed in a circle a few more times before fluttering delicately onto my outstretched hands and nipped at my palm appreciatively. I gestured for Ron too slowly put the parchment into my hand and I wrapped it around the little owl's leg before bringing it closer to my face and letting it peck my nose. It was a sign of trust.  
"Where did you want him to go?" I asked Ron.  
"Hermione," Ron said clearly so that Pig could hear. Pig wasn't paying any attention to Ron though. He turned his tail feathers against him and hooted into my face.  
"Hermoine, please, Pigwidgeon," I said in a soft and motherly tone. He flew off and out the window and I sat back down. Fred clapped and Mr Weasley looked astounded.  
"Where did you learn to do that?" George asked.  
"I just learnt from what Dad did," I said, "Took a lot longer with him though. I'm just talented," I flicked my hair and sat down again, a newspaper being squashed under me.  
"I've always loved Owls. They fascinate me," Fred said out of the blue, his eyes misted over. George raised an eyebrow at him, but nobody said anything in reply. Fred shrugged and went back to what he was doing.

Arthur stretched out his legs and put them onto the table, the socks on his feet happily adorned with cats. Mrs Weasley came into the room and scolded him, but as soon as she left, he swiftly propped his feet back up. Ginny scoffed.  
"Do you have an owl, Lilah?" Arthur asked me.  
"I used too, but she was old and Mum hated cleaning up after her, so one day I leant her to a first year up in the Owlery who couldn't get an owl to take her letter to her mum, and she came to return it to me, but I just told her to keep it. I miss her though," I sighed in reminiscence.  
"That's really sweet of you," Ginny cooed. I shrugged it off, crimson rising to my cheeks. I tried not to look at Fred but I could feel his eyes on me and it was like from the corner of my eyes I could see the beauty of his half smile. So I looked up, but he looked down, then he looked up and I looked down. Awkward.  
"I went to buy a cat, but cats don't really like me," I said.  
"Cat's don't like anyone but their owners. I mean, Hermione's cat Crookshanks hates everyone in the entire world except for Hermione of course, and sometimes Harry" Ron rolled his eyes.  
"Cats are naturally grumpy, but when I say they don't really like me, I mean they really don't like me. As soon as I walked in, they all started hissing and scratching at the glass surroundings and wailing and it was like I was a walking dog or owl or something," I said.  
Arthur made a thoughtful noise and we all went back to staring into the depths of the fire, letting it absorb our minds. All except for Fred, and in turn, me. He was staring thoughtfully at me and I was staring perplexedly back at him. He didn't seem to really see me looking back at him though. He was looking straight through me, but still straight at me. Then something in his brain clicked, he blinked a few times and smiled broadly, like he had two days ago before our first kiss.

Chat resumed and Ron started yapping about his two best friends again. At the mention of Harry's name, I noticed Ginny turn her attention back to him, but I wasn't really interested in all that was to know about The Boy Who Lived. He was interesting and surely a great person to get to know, but he was younger than me and was overly favoured by Dumbledore. Why? I had no idea. There would have been good reason, but I had no interest in that reason. So I left that whole world of dark wizards and fighting and Azkaban and escaped prisoners to him. Well, I thought I had left the dark wizards to him, but that really bit me in the ass. I sighed loudly.  
"I'm going to go to bed," I said in the middle of Ron's sentence. He looked disapprovingly but I turned my back on him.  
"You know what, I think I might as well," Fred stretched his arms. George narrowed his eyes at the both of us.  
"What?" I asked, trying not to sound snappy.  
"Nothing," he replied swiftly. The conversation wasn't really bought to the others attention. In fact, it seemed to slip right over their heads. It made me wonder if there had been something in the tea, or a charm added to the fire to make it extra captivating. Either way, nobody really cared about anything except for their drink and the fire, or the light conversation.

I travelled up the stairs and turned to go into Ginny's room, but Fred blocked the door and pushed me with his chest up to his room.  
"We're going to get caught, Fred," I whispered hurriedly, knowing that Percy could no doubt hear like a bat. He had ears like that.  
"No we aren't, come on," he said as we stood at his door. He nipped at my jawline.  
"Stop it," I giggled, putting my hands on his chest. His kisses got more aggressive, more intense and I laughed a little too loudly to be safe. I pushed the door open from behind me and let him herd me in, accepting his hands on my hips and his lips on mine in soft kisses.  
"Shush," Fred said, giggling with me. He pushed me down onto his bed and collapsed on top of me, tickling me and kissing me at the same time. I slapped his hands away and linked my fingers behind his neck. He bit my lip and I supressed a shiver. He pulled away and smirked.  
"What?" I asked, trying to not blush.  
"You're pretty," he said simply and kissed me again, not giving me the chance to deny it.

After a few minutes which felt like hours, I pushed him off me, forcing him to lie next to me. We both needed to catch our breaths. This was only the fourth time we'd done this, and each time it had been either in the middle of the night or out in the fields where no one could see us. This was a risk.  
"Okay I'm going back downstairs before George comes in," I said. I started getting up, but he grabbed my hipbones and pulled me back down.  
"Don't go," he whined but I shook my head and didn't respond when he kissed me. It was hard, but if I could suffer through the Cruciatus Curse, than I could probably endure the torture of rejecting Fred.  
"I must," I said wistfully, making him laugh. I wriggled out of his grip and opened the door, checking the hallway and the stairs before sneaking down and leaping into bed.

Fred wasn't there when I got up in the morning. Ron had woken me up, still half asleep, and there were two spots at the table when I went down for breakfast. Fred and George had gone out. I was disappointed, but at least I had last night under my belt. I would just relive that until he came home. Ron was gobbling down his food at an alarming speed, the scrambled eggs moving to his mouth in a blur and flying into his mouth. He barely stopped to breath.  
"Slow down, would you?" Mrs Weasley scolded the boy, but he just licked his plate clean, slammed his fork down and flew up the stairs. He looked a lot more alive than when he woke me up. I finished off my eggs and took my plate to the sink where the terrifying and aggressive brush started scrubbing at it before I even put it down.  
"Okay, okay," I huffed, throwing my hands up in surrender and rolling my eyes. I didn't want to deal with the stupid things attitude. I expected to hear some kind of snarky remark from the twins, but they weren't there and I was forced to fill the void of silence.  
"Where are Fred and George?" I asked, trying to seem casual and not needy.  
"Went to Diagon Alley to pick up some school things and some groceries for me," Mrs Weasley said.  
"They wouldn't let me come, but they kept asking if they could wake you up," Ginny sounded displeased and jealous. I looked down.  
"Why would they want me?" I laughed awkwardly. Ginny just peered curiously at me. I shrugged and went into the lounge room. No one was around and the essence of family that had existed the night before had gone out with the fire, but I had no doubt that it would be resurrected when the fire did later that night and we would all get lost in the red hot dancers that twirled in the stone encasement. I slouched into a chair and realised with a start that it was the chair that Fred had been sitting in the night before. I could smell him on the cushions and I found myself missing him more than I had missed anyone in a long time.  
And that scared the shit out of me.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The hours dragged on. I kept glancing at the clock and then remembering that it would only tell me their whereabouts, being the sometimes informative, and sometimes useless, magical clock it was. This only made matters worse, because the boy's faces always directly pointed at 'Diagon Alley'. I sighed, and looked down, before hearing the family and quiet tick of the clock. I whipped my chin up again and saw that it was quietly ticking over to travelling. It stayed there for a few minutes, but those few minutes were excruciating and I had to keep my body from falling apart in anticipation. Finally, it flicked back to home. I adjusted my hair and pretending to look like I hadn't been waiting at all. I continued to read my book, and look cute, making sure to expose as much leg as possible since I was wearing shorts next to the fire. Boys like leg, right?

George walked in first and I used my peripherals to observe him and his movements as he sat down on the couch and sighed heavily. A minute passed and no one followed, but Fred's arm on the clock pointed at home. I left it for another minute before looking up and looking almost surprised to see him.  
"Oh! George! I didn't even hear you come in," I said in fake exasperation, trying to act cool about his brother's absence.  
"Gotcha! It's not George! It's Fred! I knew you couldn't tell, I knew you were just guessing!" George cheered from the couch.  
I rolled my eyes at him, "George, I'm not an idiot."  
He looked defeated, "Fine. Fred is outside, he wants you to meet him out there."  
My heart leapt at those few words and I stood up at a little too hastily, adjusting my hair and pulling it out of the bun it was in so it would fall in artificial curls caused by the creases made by the hairband. My hair usually made my face look thinner.  
"Keen," George muttered under his breath.  
"What?" I shot at him. He scoffed and waved his hand.  
"Nothing. Nothing at all," I of course knew what he said, so I tried to stroll casually out of the room, stopping to admire something on a shelf before exiting. I was itching to get out there. I opened the door and felt the cold air sting my bare legs.  
"Fred?" I said hesitantly, looking around. I expected him to jump out of nowhere and for George to laugh at me, but he didn't. Instead, I heard from around the corner a faint, but intelligible 'around here'. There was another sound, but I couldn't pick it. So I followed the sound of his voice and found him hunched over the tap with a small bowl in his hands, filling it slowly.  
"Hey!" he said, turning to me and revealing what the strange sound was.  
Upon his shoulder sat the most majestic, proud looking owl I had ever seen. It had jet black wings, but a snowy white crest and grey feathers around the eyes. He had golden brown eyes and, as he demonstrated for me when fluffing himself up, a beautifully wide wingspan.  
"Oh! He's beautiful! You got an owl!" I yelped in excitement. I approached slowly, but the owl was seemingly ecstatic to see me. He waddled around in a circle and hooted into the air while I approached.  
"Kind of. I didn't get him for me," I raised an eyebrow at him, "I got him for you," he eventually answered. I stopped still and let my jaw drop so low I thought it would fall off.  
"For me?" he nodded, "But Fred, how did you get the money?"  
"I didn't need too. Someone was giving him away," he shrugged, letting the full grown owl hop down the length of his arm and onto his finger, "Jesus, he's heavy."  
"I can't possible accept this," I shook my hands in front of me.  
"You said you missed your owl, and you love them, so here you go. Come on, don't let my efforts go to waste," he grinned from ear to ear, a smile which I returned.  
"My god, Fred," I shook my head in disbelief.  
"Is that a yes?" he replied, letting the owl jump from his hand and onto the ground where it pecked furiously at the water bowl.  
I smiled and gave him an expression that meant I was completely lost for words. He laughed and walked towards me and wrapped his long arms around my waist and pulling me close like I'd often dream a guy would spontaneously do. He kissed the end of my nose in an affectionate way, something I'd dreamed about, and finally he kissed me on the lips with a gentle, hidden passion. I pulled away slightly and we landed in kiss limbo.  
"Yes," I whispered, "Yes. Yes. YES!" I cried kissing him between each yes. I let myself melt into him, using his neck to warm my hands as he was using my lower back to do the same. We breathed each other in like we hadn't seen each other in a month. It was a brilliant moment if a cry from behind us hadn't ruined it.  
"I knew it! I absolutely, 100% knew it!" a male voice cried. I shoved myself away from Fred and turned around to see Ron dumbstruck, pointing with a slightly quivering finger.  
"Shit," Fred muttered behind me. I hurried over to the owl and let him jump onto my finger.  
"I was just saying thank you for the owl he bought me," I said hastily.  
"Thank you!? THANK YOU!? You have a pretty goddamn weird way of saying thank you. I don't see you making out passionately with Dad because he let you into his home! I see you making out with Mum because she made us a good supper!" he was kind of yelling and rambling at the same time, and I would have laughed it if I wasn't so terrified of the consequences of our burst of open passion.  
"Okay, Ron. You caught us. We've been hooking up," Fred said. I kind of took offence to the words. Hooking up? Is that what this was? "But so what? It's just a little fun."  
"You're unbelievable Fred! Does George know?" he asked. I didn't even know the answer to that.  
"No, no one but you knows. Can we keep it that way?" he asked a little bit impatiently. I would have expected him to ask a little nicer since our tiny relationship, or as he had put it, 'hook up' depended on secrecy. Ron narrowed his eyes at Fred, and then at me, then back at Fred, then at me.

"He hasn't forced you into anything has he?" Ron directed the question at me. I laughed a little and then wanted to take it back immediately, seeing the hurt in his eyes. He had just tried to care.  
"No, " I stuttered, "No, our 'hook ups' have been consensual," I emphasized 'hook ups', shooting at look at Fred who was looking back at me. He didn't seem to notice, which ticked me off to no end. He turned back to Ron.  
"Come on Ron, be my brother," Fred pleaded, trying to guilt trip the kid into it. It worked, surprisingly. He huffed, puffing his chest up in a sudden responsibility.  
"Fine, but you both owe me. Big time," he pointed at both of us and strutted off, knowing he had something to blackmail us with.

Fred sighed and turned around, looking glum.  
"That was eventful," he said. I, however, was too focussed on what he had said.  
"Is this just a bit of fun to you?" I scowled, letting the owl flit up to my shoulder and peck at my ear.  
"What?"  
"That's what you said. 'Hooking up'," I rolled my eyes and tried to fight back the tears. I shouldn't have been so affected by it. We had, after all, only been hooking up but I thought there was something below the surface. A lurking connection, like a killer whale under ice, with the same level of threat. Okay maybe not. But still.  
"Lilah," he said softly, taking a step towards me. I stumbled backwards so quickly that the owl lost its balance and had to take flight, before landing again, "Lilah, you know I didn't mean it like that. I just wanted him to leave us alone. I wouldn't go out of my way to get you an owl if this was a meaningless hook up."  
I stood there for a moment and felt my magnificent owl rub his head against mine, as if trying to encourage me to leap back into his arms. I stood silent for a little while, letting the owl coo and searching for any glimmer of untruthfulness. I couldn't detect anything of deception, so I nodded.

"Okay," he grinned at my response and came towards me and the bird.  
"What are you going to call him?" he asked.  
"Doesn't he have a name already?" I pondered.  
"Nope, man said he hadn't had a chance to name him before realising he was allergic."  
I thought about it for a bit, looking at the creature that sat perched on my shoulder. I was already deeply in love with him and it was as if he felt the same way, because he bowed down to me and gave me little owl kisses as if he was grateful for my existence.  
"I think I'll call him Zeus," I said finally. The owl seemingly agreed with this choice as he bobbed his circular head up and down and pecked me once more, "Yeah. Zeus. Like the Greek God guy."  
"Fitting," Fred said, scratching Zeus under the wing, "He was a wizard, you know."  
"Was he?" I enquired, starting to walk towards the door with Fred and Zeus.  
"Yep. So was Jesus," he said matter-of-factly.  
"I think you're making this up."  
"Might be," he grinned cheekily.


End file.
